You Could Have Anyone
by kaat1
Summary: Why him?
1. Chapter 1

_Strong language_

Carla sat alone in her living room, frustratingly turning the television off; the most irritating people to exist had to be Simon Cowell and his cronies. Pulling herself from the sofa, she grabbed her wine glass and walked to her phone that lay on the kitchen counter. She was bored. Knowing that Saturday nights are their busiest, Nick was held up at the Bistro, Michelle was swamped at the pub and her only companion at this moment was the glass of red in her hand.

Waiting in his car, he watched the rain pound against his windscreen, just able to vision the couple together. Right now, thinking they were the only two people on Earth, laughing, kissing, being normal. He could see the man's dirty hands all over her body. Knuckles turning white, the clench of his fist almost drew blood. Peter tried to steady his breathing as he looked upwards to their window. The light was on, they were in. He had to ignore his own shaking and smashed his grip forcefully against the nearest object.

Shit. The sudden car horn outside made her spill the red wine over her newly fitted cream carpet. Where was Nick when she needed him, he knew about this stuff. But Carla couldn't lie to herself, she was disheartened at the wastage of alcohol rather than the wreckage of her flooring. She quickly found a paper towel before unashamedly wiping the ground with one hand and pouring herself another drink with the other, her glass balanced above a pile of magazines. This was all some moron-in-a-car's fault.

He finally released himself from the vehicle, the refreshingly cool raindrops falling against his skin seemed a briefly welcome distraction. He didn't know what was about to happen, it would be easy to beat the slimeball to pieces but Carla wouldn't thank him. Yet it could never be this beautiful reunion. He didn't need that, he didn't know what he needed. Peter looked to their window again, the light was now off.

Carla took her last half a glass of red with her into the bathroom, deciding to draw herself a bath to wind down and hoping to finally collect her thoughts. She watched herself in the mirror as she tied her brunette hair away from her face, the sound of the water crashing into the tub was bizarrely calming. Eventually, she could faintly hear her buzzer.

Persistently hitting the C. Connor bell, Peter could feel his revulsion rise. They were fucking, he knew it. He also knew that he had no right to judge, that the best thing he could do was turn and not look back. But she was too close, it would be impossible.

"Hello?"

She said with agitation through the tannoy as she switched the main light back on, the phone pressed to her ear as she leant against the door.

Her voice. He hadn't heard her speak for such a long time and she sounded just as he could remember. Peter really did miss everything about her.

"Hello?" Carla repeated, her tone regretfully starting to crack. The silence from the other side was beginning to feel strange, almost haunting. She could hear breathing, somebody was there. Somebody was listening to her. Her chest felt like thunder as she prepared to hang up, until he spoke.

"Carla," He could only manage her name.

She could have sworn that her heart stopped. He was back. The bastard was back. Carla squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body nearly collapsing as her clutch of the phone remained strong.

Peter didn't know what else to say, he didn't plan anything. She hadn't answered him but she was certainly still with him and he had to keep her there. "I need to talk to you,"

Carla inaudibly laughed. He had spirit, she'd give him that. She pushed her back to the door, holding herself together and tried to focus her sight. "You've got some nerve,"

"I know," Of course he agreed with her, Peter didn't know what he was doing. He felt embarrassed for his self but the thought of Nick by her side, laughing at him, made Peter want to hammer the door down and throw the prick out of the window. Easy.

"Go to hell," Perhaps a little harsh. She couldn't bother with that man again, she had no energy left. Carla was ready to cut him off but Peter just keeps giving.

"Is Nick there?" The words escaped his mouth, he couldn't help himself. Peter looked around as he heard people close by before returning his attention.

Carla had forgotten how much she despised him. Somehow despising herself more as she continued to stand at the door with the phone in her clasp. She answered loud and simply, "No."

Peter felt relief wash over him that she was alone and annoyance that he couldn't exact his revenge. "Carla, I really want to talk to you," he braced himself for her rejection, stepping slightly away from the entrance and glancing back to his car parked at the side of the road.

Both were left in shock as she buzzed him up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews! (not exactly going to be a Carter love story...)_

She didn't know why she did it, letting him up before she'd even realised, before she could think about her actions. Carla opened the door slightly with the chain still hooked for guard. She's known about his return for a couple of minutes and already they had started playing games with the other's head, his fault though. Seeing Peter approach through the hall, his hair and skin dampened by the autumn rain, he made her blood run cold.

"Let me in, then," He said softly as he leant his hand against the door, looking directly at her. He could barely see her behind the shield but her sparkling emerald eyes staring back at him almost knocked Peter straight off his feet.

"No," She says sharply like his suggestion was the most ridiculous thing she had heard all year, "Why are you back?"

"I heard about you and Nicky, didn't I,"

"How?" Not that it mattered.

"A little birdie,"

The conversation wasn't going anywhere, she could easily guess that it was Tracy who spilled the beans. Carla was only angry that she couldn't have been there to watch his reaction. She narrowed her eyes, perhaps she hoped meeting him again would cause disgust. But she now could sense his pain, his frustration that she had picked one of his oldest enemies like it was a direct insult. He had a ridiculous aura of betrayal radiating from him, yet somehow he made her question herself. His dark pools watching her had nearly pulled Carla back in. Nearly.

"Is that it? You travelled thousands of miles for that? Forget your troubled son or elderly dad, come back for the ex wife that hates your guts," She corrected herself, " _One_ of your ex wives." She put on a mocking tone and maybe it sounded convincing. The simple truth was she found it amusing that she was still his biggest priority, though neither would admit it.

He had no choice but to ignore her comment. To brush it off and play her own stubborn game, "I bet Nick is in there, hiding behind you," He didn't really believe it and she didn't particularly react but Peter persisted, "He is, isn't he?"

"I've told you once,"

"Coward," He forced a smirk, moving closer to the door. He could almost see some of her apartment, it was spacious and bright. Not entirely like the Carla he remembered but he didn't think he knew her anymore.

"Just leave me alone," She spoke, bored of his presence. The smell of his harsh, woody aftershave clashed with fresh cigarette smoke and she hated that it reminded her of home.

"Fine," Peter wasn't to be defeated that easily, "Nick's at the bistro, right?"

She couldn't tell. He might either scurry back to wherever he came from and she'd never have to see his face again or he would actually find Nick. Carla didn't want to take the risk as he turned to leave. "Come on, then. Say what you've got to say." She unhooked the chain and moved away from the door, crossing her arms as subconscious protection.

He glanced around the room and it seemed like torture. Modern, open plan, a framed photo of the pair at the coffee table. It felt very Nick and Carla. _Nick and Carla_ , he could imagine their Christmas cards this year, 'Lots of love from Nick and Carla'. It made Peter's skin crawl. Looking back to her, she was wearing a simple white tee shirt and leggings, her hair tied back loosely, not the Carla Connor many people knew of but the one he found most beautiful. "Of all the blokes you could've had, really?"

"Well, he's a damn sight better man than you could ever be,"

It was probably true and Peter knew it. He sat on one of her settees.

"Make yourself at home, please." Carla remarked as she looked to her wall clock, Nick could be back at anytime.

"Is that wine on the floor?" He asked as he noticed the stain on the carpet by a side cabinet.

"Nevermind that," Not wanting Peter to pretend to be the knight in shining armour she once viewed him as, Carla lowered herself to a chair facing him and was determined to get the message across, "You want to know something else about Nick? He would never, ever hurt-"

"-The man is an idiot," he interrupted her, "Saint Nick? After everything?" She wasn't interested, it was obvious but he couldn't comprehend that Carla would find Nick attractive in any way.

She rested her head into her hands. His comments grating further, always playing the victim. "I don't know where I would be without him and do you know what?" Raising her voice, she couldn't bear that he came to criticize her boyfriend, "Nick's been far more of a dad to Simon than you." She knew his weakest spot; never could she have imagined saying those words to him before. She almost found it sad how close they used to be and had been reduced to this.

He looked away, visibly wounded. Peter could understand it now; Nick had become her new apparent hero, up on the pedestal. Whether the couple's relationship was as unhealthy as theirs used to be was irrelevant. Returning too late, she had already fallen hard and he knew Carla was truly no longer his. By seeing it for himself, perhaps coming back wasn't such a mistake. Standing from his seat he was ready to head away towards the door before she continued.

"You need to move on too,"

"I have," He laughed unnaturally, not sure of his own motives. Probably to save what pride he had left, "Plenty of times,"

Yes, he moved on long ago during their wedding reception. Carla rolled her eyes as she stood with him, "Well, you keep doing what you're doing," She smiled slyly and her voice almost a whisper, "And I'll keep doing Nick."

Ouch.

He took a few steps towards her and Carla could feel her heart slam against her chest as she cautiously watched him. She hated Peter, every single bit. And the affect he knew he still had, even when he didn't speak. The distance between them could have been paper thin but she kept her stance and unfailingly glared at him. If only looks could kill.

Having no other choice, she hit her fists hard against his body in an attempt to back him out of her home, "Just fuck off."

Unfortunately their eyes met as they stood a matter of millimeters apart, near to the doorway. Regardless of how much she wanted to, Carla couldn't take her focus away from his. He slowly closed the gap, pressing his lips lightly against hers.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks so much for the reviews!..._

Nick walked along the cobbled street, it had stopped raining and the side lights were twinkling as they reflected from the puddled ground, creating a surprisingly beautiful sight. He thought about Carla; he apologised and left her a couple of hours ago. She was slumped on the sofa, annoyed that he had to leave for the Bistro at such short notice. They were supposed to be enjoying their own date night and instead he was forced to serve other people's. He only hoped he could make it up to her.

If she shut her eyes tightly enough, it tasted like old times. The feel of his skin felt familiar. Lasting for four seconds, maybe even five until she came to her senses and pulled herself away. Striking her hand across his face, nothing had felt more exhilarating. He finally tried to avoid her gaze.

"I still love you," Peter said it so quietly to her and she almost felt sorry for him. Were his feelings reciprocated? Carla couldn't think.

"Want my advice?" She asked as she grabbed hold of the door, pushing him completely out. "Go back to Antigua and don't give this place a second glance."

"I won't give up on you,"

It wasn't close to adequate and neither wanted or needed it. But she could hear the genuineness in his voice.

"Well, I think you should." She swung it shut and collapsed to the floor. He hadn't succeeded, she wasn't reduced to a snivelling wreck. Though she was angry, her pulse erratic. But she'd partly managed to keep a strong resolve; this was not a defeat for Carla. She just couldn't imagine what Peter was going to do next, she knew what he had subjected Nick to in the past and now she'd possibly made the situation far worse. Lifting herself up, she found the phone she tossed aside moments ago and hastily messaged her boyfriend.

Of course, after all the time apart, he needed to talk about more to her than Nick. He hadn't thought things through. But she definitely kissed him back, Peter wouldn't forget that. For the shortest period of time, she didn't completely hate him. It was progress. He carried himself down the flights of stairs. If this meant he had even a slight chance with Carla then he was going to take it with both hands, he couldn't fly back to Antigua now.

Nick felt his phone vibrate in his chest pocket, taking it out to find a text from Carla.

 _Peter's back_

A simple message that felt more like a gunshot to his stomach. Quickening his pace to the flat, he tried to fumble a reply.

 _Are you okay?_

It was clumsy but Nick couldn't control his spinning mind, he needed to know why the man he detested had returned and how Carla knew. The black hole in his head achingly reappeared; he wanted to know how his girlfriend felt for him. But perhaps that was something he could never ask, for everybody's sake. He finally looked up as he put his phone away, his shoulders falling. Standing at the building entrance, it was Peter.

The kiss, it wouldn't escape Carla's mind. Light to heavy, slow to fast and her guilt was unimaginable. It had been a long time since she had been that close to Peter and maybe she did miss his feel, momentarily at least. No, she loves Nick not the man that ruined her world. This is why she had blanked him from her memory. She found the last of her red wine before dropping back into the sofa, where he sat.

It took all his strength not to kill Nick there and then. But for now Peter knew; he had to go the long way.

"What've you done?"

Nick's face is a picture, all crumpled up and concerned. He surely knew how stupid his question was, as if Peter would ever purposely do anything to hurt Carla. Nick must have known it was him that he wanted to destroy.

He snarled at the other man's smug look, pushing past his shoulder. Nick recognized that look, all those years before, whether it was something to do with Leanne or Simon. It was a look of silent victory, an expression he had also used many times himself. He hated that Peter had been to see Carla, he hated that he didn't know what happened next and he hated that he was nearly starting to doubt his own girlfriend.

"I kissed her," Peter said quickly before Nick could get inside the building, "And yeah, she did respond."

Carla at last realised she didn't reply to Nick's message. It had been a few minutes and she didn't know if she was okay. Yes, she was physically okay. But she was mentally shaken up. No, he didn't particularly do anything out of line. Just Peter being Peter. The only problem was that Carla wasn't being Carla. She grabbed her phone and proceeded to write him a new text.

He amusedly watched Nick's reaction, exactly how he visioned: pathetic. His eyes were circling the ground and seemed to water. Funny really, Peter reacted similarly when he discovered their relationship in the first place, over the phone with Tracy. And then the anger hit in.

Nick couldn't comprehend his words. He didn't believe it, she despised him. Carla wouldn't go near that again. Or possibly she did, for the tiniest little moment before she realised. That is why he's stood there now. It was forgivable. He took a deep breath.

"Go home, Peter," Nick said it in his calmest tone.

With a forced grin, "I am home."

Nick had a new message, he probably shouldn't have but he took his phone out. "Carla needs me," he gloats before showing him the screen.

Carla's anxiousness was getting the better of her. She couldn't merely sit around waiting for Nick, worried about what her ex husband might do. Hell, she even felt a little nervous if Peter did catch the first plane out of Manchester. That wasn't really the end, was it? There was more that needed to be said. She picked up her coat and slipped on her black boots, slamming the door behind her.

Peter could see the text in bold letters, he could see their whole conversation before him. Something about it rubbed him the wrong way; how she had contacted Nick as soon as he left the room, warning him like he was some sort of monster. It was impulsive but Peter grabbed the mobile from Nick's hands and dropped it to the floor, letting it break to pieces.

She stormed through the halls. He wasn't picking up and she was getting more and more impatient. He should be back now, something didn't feel right. There was a bitter uncertainty thick in the air.

"Idiot,"

He smirked again then turned away. "I'll see you and Carla around,"

How dare he say her name, coming back purely to antagonise him. The rage built up inside Nick, he couldn't help it. He didn't want to, it just happened; he found himself swinging his fist to the back of Peter's head.

He lost his footing and fell to the ground, smashing with impact. Seeing the speckles of blood dripping onto the concrete, he knew his skull had ripped. Nearly inaudible, Peter managed a promise as he tried to stand back to his feet, "You'll regret that."

Nick watched him stagger away. His rival didn't look good, clearly needing an ambulance but his phone was in several pieces. Cursing himself, he should have known better and kept his self control; now Peter would think he had the upper hand. Nick squinted his eyes, only to look on in horror as he lost his balance again, crashing down.

Peter could only see black. Then white. And then nothing.

Carla had seen everything.

 _...okay, okay, I got a bit carried away! I really don't know but please tell me what you thought? I did try to keep it balanced between Narla/Carter but I guess that's up to you, thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks as always for the reviews, I wasn't sure about the last chapter so it means a lot!_

Nick had been staring at Peter's motionless body for seemingly eternity before she spoke, standing beside him.

"Check his pulse."

She was quiet, so quiet he could barely hear her above his own breathing. He slowly looked to Carla, a dazed image and her eyes were cloudy. And heartbroken but he shouldn't blame her for that. Nick returned his focus to him. This may have been the first and only time in his life that he willed for Peter to speak, to fire an insult, to hit him back, anything. He braced himself, closing his eyes briefly and taking a sharp gasp of the cold air. Then he walked towards him and crouched down.

Carla studied him as he placed his hand over Peter's neck, she could feel bile rising in her throat and covered her mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen; she should be enjoying a nice evening with Nick. Peter shouldn't even be in the country. Her heart dropped. Unable to see completely but she knew he was shaking his head side to side.

"No.." He couldn't speak, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything. "I can't, I'm.." It was clear that he was trembling all over.

He scrambled back to his feet, his face pale. Carla felt for him, this wasn't his forte. It wasn't any decent human being's forte but especially not Nick's. He's just sensible Nick, a good boss and a good man. Or so she thought. She hurriedly searched her pockets for her mobile. Damn, it was finally out of charge.

"Give me your phone," She demands, deciding to take control and call an ambulance.

"He broke it," Nick pointed to the machinery mess on the ground.

She couldn't believe him. All this over some ridiculous, dispensable iPhone? Her jaw must have noticeably dropped.

"He was winding me up," His excuses were starting to spill out like a child, high pitched and frantic. "And he told me that you both kissed,"

And there it was. Carla was being naïve if she didn't think this was all her fault. Of course it was, Peter wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. Nick wouldn't have lost himself if she didn't do what she did. Destroying everyone she touches, it's what she does best. Her voice cracked, "I'm sorry,"

"Me too,"

They heard noises around them. People. Carla thought that was Beth's laughter but it soon faded away and the night was dead again. She used to enjoy the darkness, the mystery and the peace. Yet at that moment all she wanted to do was scream. She felt Nick's arm drape over her shoulders, the strong scent of his cologne only irritating her. He was at least partly to blame. He knew Peter, he knew her and he should've known better.

She tensed in his arms before pushing away. "But you shouldn't have punched him,"

"I had no choice,"

She almost choked at his comment.

"You always have a choice, Nick," Her voice didn't get louder, it got faster. "Just like he chose to sleep with Tina and Rob chose to kill her, you chose to smash Peter's skull when his back was turned-"

"-And you chose to kiss him!" His shout caught her off guard as she took a step away from him. "Don't put me in the same box as them,"

"Well, why not?" She couldn't control herself, her tears were racing down her cheeks, "You were reckless, we all were."

There was a short and mutual silence, only the sounds of their hearts crashing against their chest walls could break it apart. Time wasting at the most crucial point. They each had a share of responsibility, maybe even Peter was the most to blame. She knew Nick didn't actually expect him to trip over and crack his head open. And it was getting colder, the brisk wind brushing past Carla and consequently sending a shiver down her spine. She wrapped herself into her leather jacket. They couldn't just stand there.

"Go to Ken's," She suggested before kneeling beside Peter. Her mind was otherwise blank.

He watched her confusedly but knew he couldn't question her. Nick gave one last glance to the pair, she didn't look back to him. He didn't want to leave her, Peter might wake up miraculously as he left. And she seemed a little too upset, there must be a line between appropriately sad and more than that? He had to snap his thoughts away. It was bitter and twisted. It was not Nick. But perhaps it was all part of Peter's master plan, to rip apart their relationship as the apparent victim, knowing Carla wouldn't let him die.

She touched the side of Peter's face, as lightly as she could with the back of her hand. His skin still warm, he murmured slightly. She relaxes just to his sound, knowing he was still with her. It was only a matter of minutes since she last felt him. A hard slap before slamming the door shut, she thought it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was at the time.

Nick was thinking about it; there didn't need to be a rush, Peter did not have long after all. And then it would be problem solved.

"You know how to make a grand entrance, don't you?" Carla whispered to him before biting her bottom lip slightly. She didn't know what to say and he probably couldn't hear anything. But if this was her only chance left then she couldn't throw it away. "And don't get any ideas, I still hate you,"

He couldn't fritter any time away before he knocked on Number One. Nick knew he wasn't evil, his head just wasn't clear. The door opened almost immediately.

"I wish you could let me get on with things," She looked away from him, down the ghostly street. Not a soul in sight. "I know you hate him but he makes me happy."

Perhaps it helped that he couldn't talk back. Sometimes his mouth alone could fill her mind with venom.

"It's not like you have any right to judge," Her desperate ramblings were mostly for her own benefit. She took a pause to steady herself before continuing, "You know how much I adored you. It was pathetic really,"

"I do love Nick, maybe not in the same way as I felt for you but-" She turned back to Peter. His face was white. He usually has such an olive complexion and now he was whiter than snow. When she reached her hand for his, it was ice.

It felt as if someone had stabbed her heart out.

Carla stood up, breathless like she was drowning but there's no surface. Not knowing what to do anymore, she couldn't see the right from the wrong. She had no sanity left. So she ran.


	5. Chapter 5

She just kept going, it didn't matter where and her heart was in her mouth. Carla hated herself, truly despising every bone in her body. She should be supporting Nick. He needed her. Peter needed her. Instead she ran away; she just had to breathe. It was obvious Peter was fading, leaving her again and he'd only just come back. Another one destroyed and it felt too raw. Everything was in pieces. She took a minute as she stood by a brick wall, leaning herself against it. Eventually her heart rate should slow down. Eventually she should be able to return to the ones that needed her. Eventually she might be a little less selfish.

Nick thought his own eyes were deceiving him as he dragged Ken and Tracy to the corner. Carla wasn't there. And neither was Peter.

Fuelled on adrenaline but she hadn't gotten far; a back street, approximately two hundred metres away from where it happened. She was still in Weatherfield and she'd still make it back in time. She gazed at the road as a car drove past into the night. A black and flashy BMW, it was similar to the one she used to drive. Carla could remember travelling for long journeys with him, the rain might crash against the windows but the sun would sparkle, cheesy music blasting out, they'd laugh and even argue over completely nothing, followed by more laughter. It was a beautiful feeling with him. With Peter. Whatever happened between them, she should be next to him. She owed it to the treasured memories.

"Is this a joke?" Tracy snarled at him. Nick didn't know how to respond, he left for the fewest amount of minutes and they both had vanished. Just fallen off the earth. It could have been possible that Carla had taken him to hospital but he then noticed her car parked nearby. He didn't know anything at all and it was infuriating.

Carla tried to make it back, her feet were aching and her body felt like she had dipped it into an ice bath. But she had to get there. She needed to know if Peter was okay. She needed to make amends with Nick.

He could see the trio panicking by the pavement. His poor dad looked exhausted, his sister was furious. And he looked an absolute fool; old predictable Nicky, the mummy's boy and local drip. What Carla could see in Nick was a mystery but she had left him lying on the ground for that man. Peter pushed his right foot against the accelerator pedal and gripped the handbrake. It would be so simple; Nick was straight ahead, a few yards away. He didn't know why he was hesitating, he had almost killed him and bit by bit had taken each of the good in his life. Peter's head excruciatingly knotted up as he lifted his hand to it, the bleeding was nonstop. He clearly had two options tonight, drive to the hospital or drive over Nick.

Her heavy breathing started to steam in the air as she looked up. Carla could see Nick in the distance, he appeared terrified yet enraged. His entire stance made her feel like a horrific person. Readying to quicken her pace, she finally noticed the absence of Peter. Something was terribly wrong.

"I'll call you if I hear anything," he measly offered Ken and Tracy as they walked away. Nick was lost as to what to do or say; everything was a blur and he just wanted the night to end. This was all Peter's fault.

He was still standing there; an easy and oblivious lone target. Peter hated that Carla loved him. So she'd only be heartbroken again, more pain of his own cause. He had faintly heard her talking to him, that she wanted to get on with things. That Nick made her happy. Peter found it repulsive but he could also recall Carla saying that she used to adore him, perhaps a bit more than Nick. Slightly comforting.

As Carla moved closer towards her boyfriend, she stopped in her tracks. There was a vehicle between them. She could see Peter, sitting in his car and staring ahead. The elation to see him conscious was short lived as she knew what he was thinking. It sent shivers through her but she didn't make her presence known. She had to wait.

Peter watched him for a few moments longer, his eyes filling. He felt weak. No matter how much he detested the man, he couldn't do it to Carla. Nick finally walked into the building, she was probably waiting for him. He took his foot away from the gas and put his head into his hands. He couldn't kill.

"What are you playing at?" Carla questioned as she knocked against his window. But it didn't surprise her in the slightest, she only needed to wait so he could stop himself. She knew he would. "This isn't the flaming Hunger Games, Peter."

Somewhat muffled through the glass, he wasn't expecting her voice; she seemed appalled, understandable he supposed. Yet the way she, as always, dropped the T in his name let him soften. Peter didn't look at her as he wound the window down, his tone was hoarse. "I was never going to do it."

Carla believed him, grudgingly. "So now what?" She asked but neither knew the answer. He didn't come with a plan.

"Now I go to the hospital," He announced after a pause and he started his car again.

"I'll take you," It was a statement rather than a request as she opened the main door, "You're in no fit state to drive."

"And you are?" He knew she had some wine earlier but she wasn't drunk. Peter finally turned to her as he reached for the object between them. Her face was teary and tired but she still had a twinkle in her eyes. "What do you care? You left me for dead."

Gosh, she hated his stubbornness. "I thought you were dead," Carla pulled the door from his clasp, "So I panicked."

"Well, I reckon Nick needs you." He felt his head stab once more as he tried a weak smile to her, white as a ghost.

Raindrops began to sprinkle again. She still despised him; now he had tried to ruin her relationship and thought about killing her boyfriend, she despised him even more. But somehow she wanted to help him, it was ridiculous. "Come on," Carla practically pulled Peter out of the vehicle, "Just let me drive."

 _I think next chapter might be the final one for this story but please let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Apologies for the delay, been a bit of a hectic week and I got rather stumped on this chapter.._

"I'm sorry for everything tonight," Carla said, holding the phone closely to her ear. She'd managed to seize Peter's during his treatment; he knew and had made perfectly clear that he wasn't pleased about it.

"When are you coming home?" Nick's voice was laced with concern, for her most likely. Yet, whilst he had a right to be angry, Carla couldn't precisely pin point his feelings through a phone call.

And she couldn't articulate her answer properly. Yes, it would be easy to depart at that moment; knowing Peter will recover, she'd done more than enough already. But it felt wrong for Carla to leave him alone, which was strange given how much she hates him. And hospitals. She had always hated these places; it was the smell, the doctors and the bleak atmosphere. Ever since she was a small child and had to witness her own mother lying in a cramped bed after a stomach pump, she and Rob had promised each other that they would never have to set foot in one again. It was a juvenile promise that couldn't realistically be kept, yet here she was; needlessly back in an A&E waiting room, clutching a plastic white cup filled with stale water and praying for another alcoholic in her life. Of course, this time it wasn't alcohol related.

"I'm not sure if I can leave him yet," Carla's final response was feeble but it was the most she could manage.

"He's in the best hands," Now she could hear his irritation. It was a relief, Nick is no saint. "We really need to talk."

Though there had to be a compromise somewhere. "I promise we will, I won't be long." She felt the guilt eat away at her insides but it was the only possible thing she could do. Carla did ache to be with Nick, to apologise to him and make everything better. But something kept her in this old and dingy hospital in Manchester. Maybe she is just a glutton for punishment.

"I love you," Nick could only reply with that, trying not to imagine Peter's nauseating puppy dog eyes at this instant. He could almost taste the vomit in his throat, only able grin and bear it for Carla's sake. He had to trust her, it was his only option.

She spoke with instinct, "I love you too."

When Nick eventually returned the telephone to a side table, his heart wrenched. It was hell on Earth. The slight relief that he wasn't a murderer had soon evaporated as Carla and Peter together now was all he could vision. She's _his_ girlfriend. The pathetic alcoholic long had his chance but he smashed her apart. Nick felt like smashing every stupid thing around him. Instead he had to sit back into the sofa. And wait.

Carla gushing to Nick about her love for him, Peter wanted to die as he listened on. But he could only shrug it away as she turned around, surprise flashing across her beautiful features to see him standing there. He simply raised his eyebrows and opened his hand to her.

It took a split second for Carla to realise that he wanted his phone back, not an invitation to hold his hand. She dropped the mobile into his grasp, purposefully avoiding any contact. "So is everything okay?" She asked in an attempt to cut through the awkwardness.

"Just a few stitches." He could pretend to be blasé but, underneath it all, Carla saw how worried he was when she drove him here. There was silence, yet sometimes she caught his eyes through the wing mirror.

Again, they didn't look at each other or even utter another word as they both left the building. It was a rush; she couldn't cope to see any more new, happy families. It still hurt, especially with Peter by her side. Pushing through the exit, the bitterly cold evening breeze was comparatively welcome to the stuffy waiting rooms. To anybody else the pair would look like strangers, walking a metre or so apart. If only they knew.

"What did Nick have to say?" It was rather typical that Peter would break the quiet as they returned to the vehicle by using the worst subject he could find.

"He's glad that you're not dead."

"Glad for himself more like," He remarked as they piled themselves into the car.

"Well, yeah."

Peter was in the driving seat this time, an unsaid agreement. The radio clicked on, the engine ignited and they were on the road. Trying to block out the terrible chart music, he almost wanted to drive as slow as he could; not wanting the journey to end, not wanting to give Carla back to Nick. But in that case she'd probably get out and walk the distance anyway. It was agony for him, to turn to her would only trick his mind and he'd imagine she was his again. So he kept his focus ahead.

"He's a good bloke, you know," Faintly audible, she didn't even realise her words had left her lips. It was hardly like she needed to justify anything to Peter.

"Maybe you think he is," His eyes didn't flicker from the traffic. "But you could do so much better-"

"-Like you?" Carla almost choked at his comment, "What did the nurses give you?"

"No, not me. Nobody is worse for you than me."

"You soon changed your tune," She rolled her eyes. Maybe Nick had at last knocked a smidgen of sense into him. Or perhaps he was trying to play more mind games - reverse psychology.

"Have I?" Peter finally turned his gaze briefly to her, "I'm never going to deny that I still love you, Carla-"

She loathed that her stomach flipped at that second.

"-Perhaps now I do understand that we shouldn't get back together," he continued, "But Nick?"

"Just drop it." She demanded, ignoring the fact that it was she who had brought it up a second time.

"You know you could have anyone in the world," It was true; as torturous as the thought of another man anywhere near Carla was, knowing she was happy could bring him peace. It was Nick that dragged Peter back.

"We've been through this," Still quiet, she slumped her arm against the door rest. Watching the raindrops racing down the window calmed her slightly. She knew it, that the whole ridiculous night was nearly all his fault. But she couldn't help but feel sadness as they sat together now, without any energy left to conjure up stronger emotions. Or they were hiding it, possibly.

"Well, just so you know," he realised they were edging closer to Weatherfield as they came to a red light. "If he hurts you, he's a dead man walking."

She must have given him a venomous look through the mirror.

"I know I'm a massive hypocrite," Peter smirked wearily as the car started again.

"Sometimes there are no words for you." She took in a breath of air, preparing herself for Nick and also, hopefully, to say goodbye to Peter. He couldn't stay in Weatherfield, as selfish as it might've made her feel. She wouldn't be able to stand seeing him every day and neither would her boyfriend.

"How is life treating you these days?"

His hero act. She hoped he wasn't attempting to force a reunion within the last few minutes of their journey. "Very well until you showed up."

Did he believe her? Probably not but sometimes he knew when he shouldn't persist, "Good to know." It was a sinking feeling as they were approaching the final turn. The problem was that Peter didn't know what he was about to do next. Perhaps he should stay at the street, with his family. Or perhaps it would be better for everyone if he disappeared again.

"For what it's worth," She said as he pulled the car beside her apartment block, "I'm glad you're not dead too."

"For Nick?"

"No." They finally exchanged a smile, it was quick and didn't quite reach their eyes but it was enough. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly.

Carla didn't like his answer, she needed clarity and assurance but that was never something she could expect from Peter. As she looked to him again, she loathed that he was the same Peter she had always known. The same warmth and the same grin. God, she needed to get out now. Patting him lightly on his arm, she unfastened her seat belt before leaving the vehicle.

To say it wasn't easy as he watched her hurry into the flats, without a second glance, would be an understatement. Peter still hadn't decided his options; he could walk away from the pair and Weatherfield forever, it seemed like the most sensible choice but it would mean Nick had won. He couldn't bear the thought. But maybe Carla's wishes should come first, for a change.

She took a slight moment until she opened her door. She immediately found Nick sat at her sofa, his relief to see her again was evident. There was nothing to say as she collapsed into his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, only able to pray that Peter wouldn't be there tomorrow. It was what she needed, whether it was what she wanted was a whole other matter.

 _Thanks for reading this story!_


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